This Sunday’s readings are full of movement, clarity, and decision. In the first reading from Acts, Peter stands before the crowd and proclaims Jesus Christ with boldness. The people are cut to the heart and ask, “What are we to do?” Peter gives a clear answer: repent and be baptized. In Psalm 23, the Lord is the Shepherd who guides, feeds, protects, and leads his people on right paths. In the second reading, Saint Peter reminds us that Christ shepherds us not by domination or threat, but by patient, sacrificial love. And in the Gospel, Jesus tells us that he is both the Shepherd and the Gate. His sheep know his voice. They do not follow every voice, and they do not enter through every opening. What stands out in all of this is the way the readings urge us toward greater clarity: a clearer voice, a truer path, and a more decisive way forward.
Last weekend I was in Southern Pines, North Carolina, leading a parish retreat. While I was there, I celebrated the weekend and daily Masses, heard confessions, offered spiritual counseling, and gave two evening talks on mercy. It was a grace-filled weekend, and one of the things that struck me most was the parish itself. It was one church, with four weekend Masses serving about 1,600 people each weekend. It was not a large church building—probably similar in size to St. Joseph in Gardiner. It did not have a large staff. But the staff were energized and enthusiastic. There were many young families and children. A great deal of good was happening there. At Easter they brought more than 60 people into the Catholic faith.
What struck me was not that they had some secret formula. It was that, in some ways, the parish felt manageable. The pastor, staff, and parish leadership seemed able to keep the parish focused, and the fruits were visible. Comparing that experience with our own parish, I found myself reflecting. In terms of the number of people who attend Mass on a weekend, St. Michael Parish is actually smaller. Yet we have six church buildings and a much broader physical footprint. There are many genuinely good things happening here, and I thank God for them. But I also wonder whether we might be able to accomplish even more if our focus were more narrow.
That idea can sound threatening, so it is important to say clearly what I do not mean. Narrowing our vision does not mean that our mission should become smaller. It does not mean that we should love fewer people. It does not mean that we should become less Catholic, less generous, or less ambitious for the Gospel. Just the opposite. It is the conviction that when a people become more focused on what matters most, the Gospel often bears more fruit.
Sometimes there is a tendency to treat a parish like a shopping mall, where the ideal is a large variety of open shops with something for everyone. But in the Gospel Jesus does not present himself as one option among many. He says, “I am the gate.” The sheep know his voice. They follow him. There is a lesson there for every Christian community. A parish cannot be everything at once. It cannot listen to every voice. It cannot build its identity around maintaining structures for their own sake. The main purpose of a parish is to help people hear Christ, enter through Christ, and follow Christ. That is its reason for existing.
The real question, then, is not simply about buildings. The deeper question is about vision. What are we most committed to: buildings or people? Preserving a footprint or leading souls to Jesus Christ? Maintaining everything or focusing our energy where the Lord is clearly calling us to bear fruit? Peter in Acts gives us a helpful example. When the people ask what to do, he does not offer a thousand initiatives. He points them to conversion, baptism, and the Holy Spirit. He clarifies the essentials. The Good Shepherd in the Gospel does something similar. He knows his sheep by name. He leads them. He walks ahead of them. For a Catholic parish it is not a matter of doing more and more. It is a matter of making the voice of Christ clearer and the path to him more direct.
That is a question worth praying about here at St. Michael Parish. We are one parish, united in one mission across six church communities. The Lord has entrusted real people to us: children, young families, the elderly, those searching for faith, those returning to the Church, and those carrying heavy burdens. The challenge before us is not merely how to keep everything going. The challenge is how to become more fully the kind of parish where people can truly hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. Sometimes narrowing the focus is not a loss. Sometimes it is the beginning of greater fruitfulness. Let us ask the Lord this Easter season to guide us in right paths, to free us from fear, and to teach us again how to follow his voice with confidence. If we stay close to the Shepherd, he will show us the way.